Will Vigar

poet. writer. imposter.

Going Home: Keats – Episode 4

April 19th Breakfast. Animals. Piano. The problem, I suppose, is that I don’t know most of the music I found. Not by name, anyway. Playing it, aware that my sight … Continue reading

March 4, 2016 · Leave a comment

Going Home: Keats – Episode 3

April 18th Chickens okay. Goats okay. Sheep okay. Felt a slight sag in the reinforced floor of the greenhouse. I’ll need to access below stage to see how the pit … Continue reading

March 1, 2016 · Leave a comment

Three Haiku

Nostalgia A box of photos. The debris of simpler times. Wonderful and sad.   Lament Time still gives no clues As to how you changed the trees From oak to … Continue reading

March 1, 2016 · Leave a comment

Going Home: Keats – Episode 2

April 17th After showering, I walk back to the kitchen stopping in the greenhouse to pick some tarragon for my scrambled eggs. Bit poncey, but why the hell not. That … Continue reading

February 29, 2016 · Leave a comment

Church Ope Cove

Tethered kelp shakes angry algal fists at boy racer waves. *** Reaching for shore, slow-time tides beat lunar tattooes. *** Oil black mackerel taunt the shore-bound; Slick and shifting. *** … Continue reading

February 28, 2016 · Leave a comment

Going Home: Keats – Episode 1

I think I’ll try hydroponics. It will mean opening up the science labs and they are pretty difficult to defend, but I’m sure I can work something out. I should … Continue reading

February 28, 2016 · Leave a comment

My Houseplants Hate Me

No eyes to see you. No hands to reach for your aid. I feel the disdain Growing in you; begrudging even the smallest of drops.

February 27, 2016 · Leave a comment

“Summer”

Crisp air Less definite now those brittle breaths have passed for another year   summer air its humid mass presses down on limbs unwanted   no movement until autumn

February 27, 2016 · Leave a comment

Haiku 16: Coffee

Sing me dark songs with A voice of ash and heaven. Wake me from slumber

February 27, 2016 · Leave a comment

Tanka 2

Breathing in crisp must The scents that herald winter. Understanding that written on each golden page, Shining words of renewal.

February 27, 2016 · Leave a comment